A Painted Canvas
by another moment gone
Summary: -Stolen. You watch the dancers twirl around you. Unintentionally, you torture yourself with burning flames of regret and confusion. Only one thing racking your mind: Gratitude. One shot. R&R. -J.H.Q.S.316 *Complete*


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**Inspired by ****Cela Fille's**** "Dark Blue". It's **_**incredibly **_**written. Read it, if you haven't already. =) One shot.

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_**A Painted Canvas**_

_**-Stolen **_

You walk through the large French-like doors with only two things on your mind: _revenge, _and _regret_. You know that there will always be disappointment at events such as this, but you believe that you are armed. _Unbreakable. _

You glide down that large, long, cliché-like staircase as you insecurely bow your head. You wear nothing like you would to a typical event, but you prayed earlier that it would _make him notice you_.

Your face burns with heat as you feel the gazes follow you, endlessly stalking you as you make your way through the sea of colorful dresses and pitch black tuxes.

You begin to feel the nerves kick in as you steady yourself by leaning against the bar. Your eyes begin to wander without your permission and they land on a singled out couple. Unlike the cliché mess that had been occurring, they were not in the middle of the dance floor.

The two blonds were obviously most different than other couples—even you could precisely see that.

A rush of vile thoughts ram into your brain as you find your hands gripping the bar's polished wooden table. You quickly release your hands' previous position and attempt weakly to ignore the couple.

With a another futile attemption redeemed, you look down at your brand new shoes; bought _just _for this occasion. _Just__ to make him notice you_.

You feel the need to quit staring senselessly at your expensive heels. You pick your head up and feel the intense waves that ray out into the crowds of perceptive people.

Walking abruptly, you find yourself making your way closer to the couple. Anxiety wraps a blanket around you as you edge yourself closer and closer.

You watch with envying orbs. You note that the couple smile at each other like they just can't help it. You pick up the fact that he stares at her like he's a man that just spotted the sun for the first time. You even, unwillingly, point out that her eyes had lighten up each time he'd say something to her.

You bitterly realize that he was whispering sweet nothings, sweet nothings that you had heard once before.

Although the ocean-blued blond had claimed that she was your best friend, you know that a fringe of you has a proclaim against that 'factor'.

Because best friends are there for you, allowing you to feel perfectly comfortable with confiding them each and every secret that they may hide. But no, you are not selfish enough to share the small detail that _you _share the same, past feelings as she presently does.

Witnessing at first hand that he has _finally _moved on from lingering on your past, you sigh, trying to fix that aching void in your heart. It begins to grow stronger and stronger, pulsing and beating an unforgettable melody.

Your eyes are unfocused from the _perfect _couple, and no longer do you have the same chanted mantra in your head. You recite a new one:

_He broke your heart… _

But since you are Massie Block, and Massie Block does _not _shed a tear in public's eye, you choke back the sobs that threaten to rack your body, and hold your head up high as you trample out into the cold biting wind.

_He broke your heart…_

_He broke it. _

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You take baby steps as you enter the room full of uncountable people. Dresses swirl with infinite colors and your vaguely realize that all your friends have dates.

All but one.

Your eyes flicker to the amber-eyed brunette that had a tight grip on the bar's table. Her eyes are unfocused and many emotions are playing in her glassy eyes.

She suffers in silence, you shortly realize after.

Even at this bleak occasion, an epiphany dawns at your feet:

This strong, courageous, fearless, alpha was no more than a weak, fearful, little girl. Despite the circumstances that play out in front of you like a film, you find yourself gravitating towards the amber eyed beauty.

You watch her carefully, following her emotionless gaze. She is in a trance you shortly notice, for she does not acknowledge your presence.

You follow her pained eyes that are masked, quite well. Her eyes meet upon a young couple, slow dancing, tightly holding each other like life jackets.

You mildly discover that the blond haired boy with brown eyes is your best friend, dancing with your _ex-_girlfriend; even if it pains you to point out the 'ex' part, you know that you need to comfort her; for there is no _ex _in her eyes.

There was no catastrophic break up in her delicate world. There was only _boy _and a _friend _in that word.

You clear your throat, a vain attemption to get her amber gaze to land upon yourself. Startled as if she woke up from a heavy slumber, she blinks rapidly towards you. Her cloudy eyes, seeing far more than you are willing yourself to allow.

With a tortured blink, you finally speak up.

"Massie." You state as you gratefully view her. Her long midnight blue dress reaches just below her shins. The V-neck part of the dress draws you in. Her dress is like no other in this room; it is plainly designed but stunning upon her. The painfully staked beauty glances half heartily at you.

Her long cascaded, curled silky hair falls upon her shoulders. Her delicate cheeks are slightly pale, even dressed with blush. Her lower lip is jutted out, as if she were fighting raging tears.

Her stare is short as she gives you a tight, bleak smile. An outsider might think that her smile was genuine, even _happy_, but you know better. Turning away again, she tortures herself by watching the two, perfect couple.

You pull her close to you, as you firmly take her hand in yours and squeeze it gently. Whispering quietly you murmur the only words that made sense.

"I'm here for you—you're not alone."

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And with that, she pulls you tightly against her and finally wills herself to break her number one rule:

She cries in front of someone.

In front of _Cam Fisher._

_**Invitation only  
Grant farewells  
Crash the best one  
Of the best ones  
Clear liquor and cloudy eyed  
Too early to say goodnight**_

_**You have stolen my heart  
You have stolen my heart**_

And you dance the night away with a broken heart, weeping on his shoulder weakly with only one thing on your mind: _gratitude. _

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_A blind man could see that the couple were in love. _

_But a blind man couldn't see that he had two left over hearts that were still madly and unwillingly, in love. _

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_Fin. _

*Review*

-J.H.Q.S.316

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